


Just Being There

by dharmageek



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ankh-Morpork City Watch, F/M, Funeral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmageek/pseuds/dharmageek
Summary: Three days after his wedding, Vimes and Lady Sybil attend the funeral of Acting-Constable Cuddy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Acknowledgments: All this belongs to Terry Pratchett with the exception of the song snippet, which belongs to Sherman Edwards.
> 
> Warning: Soft, fluffy, comfort fic because the world has been full of sharp edges these past few weeks.

On paper it should have been the apex of romance, she was lying next to her new husband in their marriage bed. There was summer breeze and the room was bathed in the glow of sunset. In reality, Sybil’s heart was breaking. It hadn’t been a good day, given the circumstances it wasn’t a bad day, but it was definitely not a good or even a better one.

It had started with the funeral. Sam had gone quiet that morning, not that she blamed him. She had done her best to give him space but when Sam had said she didn’t need to go she had insisted. Constable Cuddy was good Watchman and a good dwarf. He deserved as many people as possible to mark his passing. With the exception of the Dwarven Priest, she and Corporal Detritus’s wife, Ruby, were the only ones present that weren't in the Night Watch. Though there was a small crowd gathered outside the gate.

After the ceremony, Sam wanted a word with Corporal Carrot. _Correction, Captain Carrot._ She thought to herself.  _The young man was happy with the life he had forged for himself._ She smiled before continuing her revelry.

While Carrot and Sam talked, she walked over to Corporal Detritus and his fiancee, Ruby.  Detritus was sitting on the ground looking crestfallen and lost. It was clear that the troll was overwhelmed and doing his best to keep a brave face. His fiancee, who was a very pretty reddish color, flanked his side. Her expression oscillating between concern over the state of her beloved and a ferocity that dared anyone to say anything about his reaction.

Sybil coughed politely. The Constable looked up and she extended her hand to him. “Constable Detritus, I am very sorry for your loss. Lance-Constable Cuddy was a good dwarf and a fine Watchman.” Detritus took her hand and shook it gently.

After letting her hand go, he stumbled to his feet and tears formed in his eyes. “He was a good friend too.” He pulled his helmet off. “He made this for me.” He moved it closer to her so she could have a better look at it.

Sybil gave him a heartfelt smile and her eyes grew bright. “He was a good friend and artificer as well then. The Disc is a little …lighter without him. You have my deepest condolences. ”

Detritus nodded and rubbed away a tear. While they were talking, Carrot and Sam had walked up behind them.

“Well said, Lady Sybil.” The young captain remarked, his eyes were bright. She reached out and patted his shoulder. He gave her a sad smile.

She turned to Ruby and Detritus. “If either of you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She handed Ruby her calling card. A look of understanding passed between the two women.

Sybil and Sam walked towards to carriage, leaving the couple to talk Carrot. Sybil looked over at Sam, he was doing his best to be stoic. _If ever a man looked like he needed a drink, it was Sam. But in that moment it was the last thing he needed. What was it grandfather had always said? Drinking to forget by drinking in remembrance was the downfall of many a soldier._

“Sam!” Fred yelled as he caught up to them as they were about to exit the cemetery. He bent over to catch his breath when they stopped. Once his breathing returned to normal, he clapped Sam on the shoulder. “It was a good one, wasn’t it?"

Nobby sidled up next to them and lit the dog-end he kept behind his ear. "Poor little bugger, but that's life in the Watch ain't it?”

Sam looked as if he had been beaten. “I suppose it is, Nobby.” He said gruffly. Sybil gave her husband's hand a little squeeze. Sam managed a weak smile for her that didn’t reach his eyes. Fred noticed she was there and removed his helmet.

“Thank you for coming, Lady Sybil. We don’t often get many…” He paused when he saw Ruby and the rest of the Watch walking up to them.

“I wouldn’t have missed it. He deserves to be honored." Sybil said sincerely.

“We haven’t had this good a turn out in years. Not since…” He looked thoughtful for a minute and glanced towards a line of graves in the distance. He looked away and shook himself. “Sam, remember when ol’ Leggy died? There was only three of us then.”

Sam nodded and Sybil noticed his hand was outstretched. Fred had pulled out a flask and was holding it out to him.

Carrot strode up between the men and snatched it. The lad gave a stern look to Fred. “This is a funeral for a respectable dwarf. Now is not the time. ”

Sam glared at him. “No! This a Watchman’s funeral, lad. This is how we say goodbye.” He grabbed the flask from Carrot. He had turned to take a drink and looked right at her. He lowered flask from his lips and was about to say something when Carrot took it back.

Sam looked at the lad and something snapped. He pulled back to punch him and then froze, a look of pain washing over him as Carrot caught his fist mid-air.

“Mister Vimes. You don’t want to do this.” The boy said gently before letting him go.

Sybil pulled Sam towards her. “We should probably be going.” The hasty words tasted metallic in her mouth and rang in her ears, she hated them.

Sam looked ashamed and ventured a glance at Carrot. “Sorry, Captain. I don’t know what came over me.”

Carrot gave him a sympathetic look. “I understand, Mr. Vimes.” He said gently and poured the contents of the flask on the ground. “I was going to stop over at the League on Lobbin Clout. The meeting today isn’t religious. Would you like to join me?”

Sybil gave Sam an encouraging smile and he nodded. “I could stop by.” He mumbled before he started walking towards the carriage.

Sybil took a deep breath. “Can I accompany you, Carrot? Ms. Icta has asked about adopting a dragon and it would be a good excuse for a spot inspection.” She said coloring slightly at the fib.

Sam stopped walking and turned to look at her. “That is a rougher part of the City, dear. Maybe you should send..”

She waved his concern off with a sweep of her hand. “Nonsense, Sam. It is the middle of the day and Carrot will be escorting me. I am sure I will be fine.”

He looked between the two of them and then down at the ground. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “If Sybil is going...I will escort the both of you, Captain.”

_He had been so put out that he moped the whole time, but he came along and he tried. For a couple hours, he was back to his old self._ Sybil chuckled to herself. _He grumbled and cursed under his breath, and was downright cantankerous. What have I gotten myself into?_ She looked down at him and concern washed over her. _What have I gotten myself into?_

After the meeting, Wilkins had the carriage waiting for them and they rode up to the house in silence. Sam went in ahead of her and up to their room. She sighed and quietly followed behind him. He sat on the bed and stared blankly at the wall.

Lost and not knowing what to do with herself, she stood in the doorway for a moment. She wracked her brain trying to think of what to do. _When I was little, Mother said that husbands knew best and should be left to their own devices._ Sybil frowned. _That is a bloody stupid idea. Bobbi had said to offer your husband a drink and ask him what you can do to help. Well, the second part might work._ She opened her mouth to ask and the words caught in her throat.

She remembered her grandmother. Olgivanna had taught her how to dress wounds and care for a wounded husband. _What had she said? Sometimes people come back and they are broken on the inside. She’d called it soldier’s heart and said that if you love them, it will be your job to help them. You couldn’t save them or cure they, they would have to fight that battle themselves. However, you could be their strength when they needed to be weak and their anchor when they felt set adrift._

An idea struck her. Sybil stripped down to her chemise and bloomers. After some prodding, she convinced Sam to lie next to her. He laid stiffly against her at first but she spooned up against him regardless. The contact made her feel a little better. 

After a few moments, he relaxed and leaned against her. She made the same soothing noises and motions she would have used on an abused dragon. She even sang a bit. Eventually, he turned in her arms and held on to her as if he were drowning. Sobs racked his body and her heart clenched. She cradled him and soothed him the best she could.

He eventually quieted and fell asleep in her arms. She looked down at him and felt as if her heart was going to break. She would give anything to take away some of his pain. She desperately wanted to make it better but she knew she couldn’t. All she could do was be here and love him. She kissed the top of his head and whispered. “I love you, Sam. I am not going anywhere.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________________

 

Sam woke up in Sybil’s arms curled against her. The bed was big, soft, and well sprung. The pillows were plump and plentiful. The breeze didn’t smell like Ankh and he felt safe. He wasn’t happy, it wasn’t a happy day by any stretch of the imagination and he had never been a happy man. Yet it wasn’t a bad day, no one had died, he hadn’t been beaten or worse, he hadn’t gone to bed hungry, he hadn’t gotten drunk, and he was loved. It had been one of the better days of his adult life.

He had been at his worse today. He had taken a swing at Carrot because the lad had stood between him and the drink. He remembered the look Angua had shot him when he did. _Lucky for me, Carrot caught the punch, otherwise, Sybil would be a widow about now._ He thought to himself and took a deep breath. He traced her collarbone.

Carrot and Sybil had escorted him to a meeting. Sybil had gone in with him, stood up and everything. _Poor sods, almost fell out of their chairs when she did._ He smiled to himself. Most women would have been embarrassed or angry, she’d been proud of him.

And then a little after noon, they came back to Scoone Avenue. He thought she would go out to the dragon pens. She didn’t, she followed him upstairs and while he sat on the bed lost in the endless body count, she stripped down to her skivvies, well the female version which was still quite a lot in most sections of the city. He hadn’t noticed though, not until she was lying next to him and tentatively asking if she could hold him. He wanted to say no, he didn’t want to sully her, didn’t want her pity. She gave him a weak smile, “Please, Sam. I could have lost you and I just want a reminder that you’re still here.” She had looked at him like just holding him would make her the happiest woman on the Disc and he couldn’t say no.

Sam nodded. He lied down on the bed and she spooned up against him. It was awkward at first, he had never done this before. Well he had, but he had always been the big spoon by virtue of being bigger. It didn’t upset him it was sort of nice. He settled back into her and relaxed. She quietly started humming to herself.

“What’s that song?” He asked.

“A home front song of sorts. My grandmother taught it to me.” She said quietly.

Sam nodded. “Can you sing me a little?”

_I’ll close your eyes, my Billy_  
Your eyes that cannot see  
And I’ll bury you, my Billy  
Beneath the maple tree  
And never again  
Will you whisper to me  
_Hey, hey_  
Oh, momma, look sharp.

Sybil’s voice was soft and sweet, and tears pricked at his eyes.

He turned in her arms and embraced her. In her strong arms, everything he tapped down with alcohol bubbled up and pushed its way to the surface. Years of funerals, failures, loss, disappointments, and pain overwhelmed him. When he was a Copper he could channel it through rage at an unfair the world but he wasn’t a Copper anymore, he couldn’t summon the rage. In that moment, there was only sorrow and Sybil’s strong, solid frame. If it had been anyone else, he would have been embarrassed. Men weren’t supposed to do that sort of thing. He was afraid that she would shirk away or get mad or worse, he couldn't bear disappointing her. He pulled away and looked at her chemise soaked in his tears. Looking up at her face, she wasn't angry or disappointed. She pulled him back to her. "It's alright, I'm here." And she just kept holding him and rubbing soothing circles on his back until he fell asleep.

A knock on the door disrupted his thoughts. Willikins cracked the door open.

“Lady Sybil, there are some Watchmen at the service entrance,” Willikins announced.

Sybil stirred. “Thank you, Willikins. His Lordship will be down in a moment.”

Sam glowered and pushed back so he could look up at her. “I am no man’s Lord.”

Sybil smiled. “If you say so, dear.” She kissed his temple.

“And Watchmen should never be sent to the service entrance.” Sam growled.

“Agreed, dear.” Sybil chuckled. “Be sure to tell Willikins.”

Sam dressed and paused at the door. “I will be back later tonight.”

Sybil smiled at him. “I will be here.”

_________________________________________

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as the last chapter of Nothing Like a Romance Novel but I decided to cut it at the last minute. After the last few weeks, pre-/post- election in the US, I decided I needed some comfort and fluff. 
> 
> The song comes from 1776 and is entitled "Momma, Look Sharp". I highly recommend it if you need a good cry. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions are welcome.


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